


What a Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy

by zara2148



Series: Praying for the Wicked on the Weekend [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Maul has little to no experience of cohabiting with someone, Obi-Wan probably has some breathtaking PTSD and that’s low-key reflected in this, Obi-Wan’s life advice: just say no to death sticks and the dark side kids, Or at least as fluffy as things get when your leads are running a Crime Syndicate, Relentless flirting disguised as banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zara2148/pseuds/zara2148
Summary: Moving in with someone always brings a set of complications. Shopping for new furniture, learning to share space, dealing with deranged subordinates, turning down offers to join the Dark Side. The usual.They say you can’t build a relationship on lies, but Obi-Wan might prove them all wrong. An approved sequel to Playing Hooky With The Best of the Best, itself an approved sequel to Troubled Love and High Speed Noise.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul
Series: Praying for the Wicked on the Weekend [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872874
Comments: 23
Kudos: 222





	What a Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coldishcase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldishcase/gifts), [Just_a_Loth_Cat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_a_Loth_Cat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Playing Hooky With the Best of the Best](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24605734) by [coldishcase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldishcase/pseuds/coldishcase). 
  * Inspired by [Troubled Love and High Speed Noise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15503595) by [Just_a_Loth_Cat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_a_Loth_Cat/pseuds/Just_a_Loth_Cat). 



> So I loved Playing Hooky With The Best of the Best, and I got a few ideas of my own in the verse. Told the Artist formerly known as Scoob, now coldishcase, about them. CC loved them, and I said I wanted to maybe write in this verse too. So I got permission from CC and Just_A_LothCat to write this.
> 
> Yes, this is a fanfic of a fanfic of a fanfic of a cartoon series that was spun off from the prequels to a trilogy. Also thanks to CC for looking this over before I posted it!
> 
> You should totally read their fics before this, but here's the TLDR: Maul and Obi-Wan have a one night stand on Tattooine, with Maul believing that Obi-Wan is really just some refugee living out in the desert who looks like his nemesis. Months later, Maul gets in contact with "Ben" Kenobi, unable to get him off his mind. Maul offers to protect the Lars family if Kenobi will come with him and act as his partner. Obi-Wan agrees, still allowing Maul to think he's just some lookalike.
> 
> Also, making Panic at the Disco lyric titles a tradition for this verse. And one of my favorite lyrics at that!

Obi-Wan’s eyes were closed as he leaned against Maul, halfway between sitting and lying down. He was not quite dozing, his state closer to a trance. Fingers were absently running through his hair, Maul’s other hand holding a datapad displaying reports from his subordinates.

Not the more exciting reports that Obi-Wan would be happy enough to help with, the ones that detailed plans and strategies not unlike the readouts he dealt with during the Clone Wars. But the daily accounting and banal minutiae that was necessary for Maul to check over personally, to ensure everything was operating as it should. Which Obi-Wan was still willing to help with, but with much less insistence. 

Then there were the body count tallies and Dryden Vos’s more… _enthusiastic_ reports. Yes, the scientific theories behind the Decraniated were fascinating and had great potential medical applications, but Vos’s words carried far too much glee when he wrote of their production and experimentation. And there were the obvious words Vos avoided, such as “lobotomy” and “slavery,” because he simply did not think in terms remotely close to the idea that other people were _people_. 

(The name “Vos” also stirred his quiet heartache for Quinlan. The once exasperating wartime antics were now fond memories, filed away with the years they’d trained together and the laughter they’d shared then.)

He had grown used (far too used) to violence and crime during the war, but the depth of one person’s cruelty could still surprise Obi-Wan. 

His face turned green reading that report, a color change Maul had started to tease him about until he realized how disturbed ‘Ben’ was by what he read. Then, Maul had gone quiet and still. The stillness of a predator poised to strike.

Vos was still alive only because he was not so easily replaced, and remained unharmed since it was best to give no warning of his inevitable disposal. For now he maintained his position, with only Maul reading his reports.

Maul seemed content to handle the task alone with ‘Ben’ close at hand. And Obi-Wan was content to simply lie here and enjoy their closeness on their still quite new couch.

Their quarters had originally been more sparse than Obi-Wan would have expected of a crime syndicate leader. Such people tended to shower themselves in the luxuries their wealth and positions provided. Over decoration was the norm, and rarely was any of it truly tasteful.

Maul’s main quarters were not like that. Oh, the space station itself was luxurious, although its construction suggested it predated the Clone Wars. Parts of it were likely older than him. Sun insignias decorated the common rooms, bright golds offsetting black.

But the rooms he was to share with Maul were not nearly so grandiose. Perhaps expected, considering how utilitarian he kept his spaceship. And perhaps some of those thoughts had shown on his face when he first saw where they’d be living together.

The setup was simple. A bedroom with a plain yet large bed, a wall closet, and functioning lights. A common room with a durasteel table and single chair. A few empty spare rooms, their potential unused. 

And a fresher, spotlessly maintained. Here was the sole nod to luxury, with a large tub suitable for lounging, instead of just a sonic shower. Though there was a shower attachment for expediency, which was likely what Maul used. Obi-Wan doubted his metal prosthetics would survive a long soak intact. He remembered all too well the complaints from another about the havoc that long-term liquid exposure could wreck on an artificial limb.

Maul had seemed almost… embarrassed? Shy? Nowhere near the right words for him, but it was difficult for Obi-Wan to describe the almost vulnerability when he said ‘Ben’ was free to redecorate as he wished.

“Well, there’s certainly plenty of space to work with.” And not much else. Even if Maul thought of this as more of a hideout than a home... he would have expected some sign of creature comforts.

Even many of the more dogmatic Jedi had not kept such a monastic lifestyle. Their focus was on savoring simple pleasures like a plush pillow or a cup of favorite tea with the understanding that they were all too fleeting and ultimately unimportant, not to deny such pleasures altogether.

His snark prompted a defensive “ _My_ needs are simple,” with a hint of a scornful smirk.

“Oh, so are mine. Excess is unheard of on Tatooine, unless you happen to be a Hutt.” Still, even his simple desert dwelling had more of a homey touch. This place was just… empty.

He had let out a sigh. “Well, there’s no avoiding it. We’re going to have to do some shopping.” They could just repurpose some of the space station’s existing furniture, but Obi-Wan was not going to live in a propaganda set piece for the Black Sun. No, better to get some basic furniture devoid of insignias.

Maul was watching him warily now, as if he was a sandstorm or pack of raiders approaching over the horizon. “We?”

“Yes. These are _our_ quarters.” It wasn't that Obi-Wan would mind doing all the work required to make this a place to live, not just exist _._ But they would be sharing these rooms. Maul would have a say in this, whether he cared that much or not.

It was slightly frightening then, how easy it was to slip into such domestic thoughts, even as the Force faintly hummed with approval. But then, Obi-Wan had spent his life sharing his space with others. His crechemates, his master, his padawan, his grand-padawan, his clone unit... Considering their needs and wants came naturally to him. It was almost a relief to slip back into that mindset, after so many years alone.

He still had done most of the selecting; Maul’s duties as a crime lord allowed little time for more than just approving Ben’s choices (perhaps purposefully, though he might as well call Maul a coward by suggesting so aloud. And _that_ would not end well). What free time he had, he seemed disinclined to spend on picking out furniture, focusing instead on… other pursuits.

Really, if only Maul had realized that helping with the furniture would give him more surfaces than just a wall or bed to press Obi-Wan against. He might have been more eager to help. Though perhaps it was Obi-Wan’s fault for not using that as an argument. 

Obi-Wan didn’t go overboard with the selection; his needs truly weren’t that great. Aside from the couch large enough for two, he chose a small dining table set, a caf table, and shelves for the flimsi books he had hopes of collecting, along with a few simple decoration pieces.

It was all worth it for the couch alone, the plush cushions soothing the aching joints that were making themselves known with age. He slipped deeper into his trance, feeling the peace of the moment ripple throughout the Force.

Then his stomach rumbled, and he felt a flush at disturbing their tranquility. He shifted slightly, moving away from Maul’s stroking fingers as he started to push himself up.

Maul’s free arm snaked around him as he sat up, preventing him from moving away.

"Hey!" he groused, but there was no real heat in his words. He could still remember how bewildered Maul was the first time Obi-Wan ignored all the space the couch offered to sit next to him as they read through reports together. Like a fish that discovered there was a world beyond the water. No fear, but plenty of hesitant uncertainty, especially as Obi-Wan drifted closer to ask him for clarification on a point or to share a potential solution to a problem.

Now he won’t let him get up. Obi-Wan let out a huff torn between exasperation and a still shaky fondness.

“Do I have to call a droid to bring me something?” he asked, leaning back against Maul.

“That’s not necessary.” He could feel the smirk.

There was a simple bowl of fruit on their kitchen table. He had thought of Padme when he chose it, remembering the bowl she kept in her apartment and the faint yet pleasant smell it added to her home.

An apple levitated out of the bowl, making its way over to them. He chuckled and held out his arm, and the apple dropped into his waiting hand.

“It’s truly a wonderful talent you have, Maul,” he said. Best to play the part of a non-sensitive still enraptured by his simple tricks.

“You have it too.”

Oh, _kriff_. Has he… figured it out?

The apple almost slipped from his hand. Obi-Wan bought a few precious seconds of not responding by biting into it. Only the uncivilized talk while they’re eating.

He turned around to see Maul had set aside the datapad, shifting his entire focus to ‘Ben.’ His gaze skimmed over Maul’s face, but there was no hint of anger at his lies or perceived betrayal. There was a familiar cast to his bloodshot eyes though, one he had seen only a few times before. Maul was _nervous_.

And he was hardly the only one. Obi-Wan pushed down his nervous energy as he swallowed the bit of apple, freeing his mouth for speech. “And what do you mean by that?”

“You have the capability to use the Force as I do. I can feel it.”

Obi-Wan resisted the temptation to smack his head against the wall. Of course Maul would pick up on his connection to the Force eventually. While the Jedi were trained to shield their Force presence when needed, it was only a _very_ limited few who could indefinitely suppress themselves and pass as non-sensitive. The former Chancellor Palpatine was one such rarity, to all of their misfortune.

By comparison, Obi-Wan was only skilled enough to pull off a similar deception for a few months. Although, it was still quite the accomplishment to have fooled Maul for that long, since they spent most of their days in each other’s company.

“All you lack is the training,” Maul continued, oblivious to his inner torment. “And I… I could teach you. Show you the ways of the Force.” His free hand skimmed over Obi-Wan’s cheek in a caress, his burning gaze riveted and riveting. The other arm remained wound around Obi-Wan’s back, holding him in place. “You’ll unlock power you’ve never even dreamed of.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes at the touch on his cheek, willing the seduction away. Maul was offering to induct him into the ways of the Sith, to corrupt him to the Dark Side. Perhaps better than being killed for his Force sensitivity, but still far from ideal.

And when he reached out to the Force for guidance, there was only an echo of vulnerability and the sense that the world was holding its breath. 

Undoubtedly, Maul would take a blunt “No” as an insult and a personal rejection, but a “Yes” would be equally disastrous. Perhaps he had taken a few steps away from the Jedi he had once been, the Jedi he was supposed to be. But he would not let himself Fall.

He had to act ignorant, perhaps convince Maul he wasn’t worth the effort of teaching. 

“What’s the Force?” 

That was too ignorant.

Maul raised an eye ridge at him. Definitely overplayed that one, but the situation wasn’t beyond saving.

“I mean, I know _of_ the Force and its potential uses. I’ve seen you move objects without touching them. It’s just never been explained to me what it actually truly is.”

Maul seemed satisfied by this explanation, any potential suspicions diverted. The hint of a smirk, or perhaps it was actually a smile, played about his lips. “Finish your apple first.” He playfully poked Obi-Wan’s stomach. “I wouldn’t want there to be any more interruptions.”

He no longer had any appetite, but it would seem odd if he didn’t comply. He ate his apple methodically but took a few seconds to savor every bite, in no hurry to finish it. Once it was down to just the core, it flew out of his hand and into the trash receptacle. 

With no more excuses, he settled back against Maul’s side in quiet defeat. At least asking for an explanation of what he already understood would buy him time to think of a tactful refusal.

He expected a recitation of the Sith code, followed by a lecture about the joys of unchecked power and ambition. Maul, however, seemed determined to surprise him.

“What we know as the Force has gone by other names over the millennia,” he began. “The oldest surviving Nightsister texts call it ‘the Luminous Mist.’ It surrounds us as mist does, and is found in every living being.” There was a twitch to his lips as he continued. “Some more than others.”

“But if I were to compare the Force to anything natural, it would be lava. Foundational, yet fluid.”

_Breathing was difficult enough on Mustafar when you were just standing still. The exertion of the fight had Obi-Wan swallowing large mouthfuls of superheated air, burning his throat and lungs even as it kept him going. Still, he moved with a liquid grace he wasn’t sure he’d ever again match._

“It is not your friend, but there is great power if you learn to use it.”

_Their sabers crackled as they clashed, sparks flying from broken machinery. They flipped and pivoted around each other, striving to stay a step ahead. Then, Anakin’s hand was around his throat, cutting off the too-hot air._

“And a single wrong step can destroy your life, casting you into a maw that’s all too ready to consume you.”

_The scent of burning flesh hit his nostrils, sickening in its familiarity. He inhaled similar scents not only on the battlefield, but also in marketplaces and homes. It’s the sort of cooking smell you can’t get away from. Anakin’s cries of hatred descended into wordless agony, his body aflame._

_He’s still unsure if it’s mercy or vengeance that stayed his hand then, that caused him to do nothing more than walk away._

Obi-Wan swallowed down his memories before speaking. “Lava, huh? That’s quite a description.”

“I grew up surrounded by it. The comparison comes naturally.”

He filed away that tidbit of Maul’s past, still largely shrouded in shadowy secrecy. 

“Ultimately though, comparing the Force to anything is reductive. The Force is just that, the Force. No more, no less. Still, these visualizations can help a new initiate grasp its power and presence.”

True enough. Obi-Wan had heard similar descriptions as a youngling, only to realize the Force ultimately defied all description once he developed his own relationship with it.

“There is a delicate balance Force-users walk between master and slave, between predator and prey. It feeds on you and your passions, just as you feed on it. Left untrained, it may try to rule you. Some found it easier to surrender to the weaker aspects of the Force instead of plumbing its depths for power.”

Undoubtedly, that was a remark aimed at the Jedi. But Obi-Wan only felt a stab of compassion that was as sharp as any anger might have been. Maul understood so little of the light because of the dark servetitude he’d been forced into.

“But achieve that important balance, and you will be able to traverse the Force’s depths and attain the power to melt away your chains.”

It was interesting how much of the philosophy mirrored what he had been taught, but from a skewed perspective. A Jedi’s struggle for balance wasn’t between domination and submission, but between detachment and compassion, between stability and stagnation. And was it so surprising that Maul, perpetually precarious when it came to his own inner workings, stressed balance as the means to power?

His view wasn’t purely Sith, though it was still steeped in darkness. His eyes traced Maul’s features with fascination and a twinge of what might be pride. Maul had become something more than what his masters intended.

A thought he had never dreamed to dare have crept into his brain. If Maul could change so much from who he was when they first encountered each other all those years ago, how much more change was possible? Could someone still so dark be nudged and coaxed back to the light? 

It was an idea far more tempting than anything Maul had offered him, though perhaps no less steeped in arrogance. After all, centuries of Jedi doctrine taught that once you started walking a dark path, your destiny was forever altered. 

He could meditate upon the possibilities later. There was still the immediate situation to deal with.

“I wouldn’t exactly call myself chained. And if I am, it’s because I wish to be,” he said seriously. He infused his tone with a delicate note of warm flirtation. “As you well know,” he added with a wink.

“Mind back on your lesson, Kenobi.”

The wink might have been excessive. Although, Maul’s skin did feel a touch warmer than it had a few seconds ago. Perhaps his words had hit their mark, even as Maul refused the temptation of a distraction.

Time to try another tactic, then.

“What you say is fascinating, Maul, but surely you understand how hard this is to believe?” Obi-Wan shifted away from Maul as he called upon the snatches of conversations he had caught in Tattooine’s shadier bars between smugglers, pirates, and other low-lifes.

Such villains would sometimes tell tales of the Jedi the way children might share a ghost story. As a cautionary tale met with a mixture of awe and skepticism. They would scoff at the idea that one Jedi could match a band of pirates that was 100 strong, jeer at the wonders the Force allowed them to work. In only a few short years after the Order’s fall, disbelief had taken firm root.

Sorrow had filled all the hollow places inside of him when he first overheard such mockery. The Jedi were truly extinct if even memories of them were dying out. The whiskey had burnt less that night traveling down his throat, numb as he felt.

Still, he returned to the bars to keep up on gossip about the Empire (and for the occasional whiskey). Hearing such tales told over and over helped Obi-Wan settle into a resigned yet peaceful acceptance. Perhaps they were regarded as no more than folk tales, but still their stories were told even as the Empire tried to stomp them out.

Plus, the people’s skepticism did provide a convenient cover. None of them was about to regard a strange old man who liked to keep to himself in the desert as someone that might have walked out of myth. And that useful cover could be repurposed.

“I’m a rational man, Maul. Business dealings, targets to take out, and assets to protect are all things I can understand. But this talk of something greater than us yet utterly immaterial, it’s a bit much. I have difficulty believing in anything I cannot see or touch,” he lied. He was well-practiced enough to meet Maul’s eyes instead of looking away as he wanted to.

There was a wildness seeping into Maul’s gaze now. “And yet you’ve seen me move things without touching them.”

Kriff, there were times he thought things might be easier if he just spent his days swallowing Maul’s tongue. He seemed to do less troublesome babbling in bed.

“I accept there are things in this world that I and others cannot yet explain scientifically,” he said, truthfully now. “That does not mean there are no scientific explanations.”

That golden gaze refused to leave his face. He couldn’t shake the sense that Maul was trying to hunt him down without moving a muscle. “Once you’ve touched the Force, you’ll realize that there is nothing more real or rational in existence.”

Yes, Maul was going to pursue this with the same stubbornness used to go after anything he truly wanted. He had hoped to lose his interest instead of resorting to a direct rejection, but it seemed Maul’s persistence would render anything but a clear answer ineffective.

“Maul… I thank you for your considerate offer. Truly, I do.” He breathed in and readied himself for the proton bomb he was about to drop. “But while it may be the path you walk, I do not think it is the one for me.”

Maul’s arm, still loosely wrapped around him, tightened ever so slightly. “You’re refusing me, as is your right to. I will not force you into this.” Maul’s tone grew rougher with his frustration. “But you are not telling me the real reason why.”

Whether it was the result of sheer familiarity with each other’s quirks and tells or something augmented by the Force, this thing growing between them made it difficult to keep secrets. Aggravating, since there were days Obi-Wan was all too aware how true the quip was that he was a walking collection of half-truths, hyperbole, and misdirection.

"I'm not so naive as to think that all you do with your powers is levitate things for your amusement and convenience." He looked away from Maul, remembering the old saying, ‘ _The truth will out_ .’ And here at least was the end of this particular lie. "You asked me to be your guide. I'm not sure I can be that, if I join you in the dark." 

There was silence at his answer. He returned his gaze to meet Maul’s unflinching stare. His body felt stiff as his muscles and nerves locked up. It was not the gaze itself that was unnerving, but the waiting. Waiting to see how Maul would react to his answer. 

Would Maul take this as a personal rejection and not just Obi-Wan refusing to follow his philosophy? Would he try to coerce Obi-Wan into accepting his offer? He knew little of what Sith training truly entailed, but from what he had gathered it was not gentle and patient like his teachers had been. And though Maul had shown he could be otherwise, perhaps if pressured he would fall back on what he was raised in.

Then a hissed “ _Kenobi_ ,” escaped Maul, and there was a world of knowing in that word. He was not calling for Ben Kenobi, his right hand man. His gaze was distant and unseeing, but Obi-Wan felt all too transparent. His heartbeat started to race in preparation for a fight he hoped to avoid.

“That’s another thing,” he continued, pleased when Maul’s gaze sharpened and snapped back into their present. “I’m not convinced this doesn’t have anything to do with, say, a long-standing fantasy of converting an old enemy to your side.”

His old nemesis’ eyes glazed over as he was briefly lost in his imagination. “He would have been magnificent,” Maul breathed with a hint of awe that he wasn’t comfortable with. “As you could be.”

If he let this kind of talk continue, Maul might just progress all the way to them overthrowing the Emperor and ruling as despots in his place. And wouldn’t Vader just be thrilled with that twist, if they were to announce themselves as his new bosses?

“Maul, I’m really not interested in learning the ways of the Force. Truly.” He resettled himself against Maul’s side, tension slowly leaving his body.

“A rational-minded Force user. That might be something the galaxy could use more of.” Maul’s tone was teasing again. His hand has moved back up to Obi-Wan’s hair, no longer a loose confinement that he could have easily escaped.

“I’m not sure I would qualify as such. You do your best to provoke the irrational in me,” he retorted dryly.

“You enjoy it.” Obi-Wan gave a noncommittal hum. Maul did make his life interesting. Sometimes Obi-Wan felt like they were caught in an odd dance around each other, one of action and reaction, and he was unsure who was leading and who was following.

Quiet reigned again for a moment, not an anxious quiet but the silence of two people who understood each other without words. At some point, Maul spoke again. “There are those that will hunt you down whether or not you are trained. Eventually, they’ll sense what I do in you. And they will come for you.”

“You mean the Inquisitors?”

A snort. “You know of them, but not the Force?” Maul did not seem overly suspicious at least. Mostly amused. 

“On Tattooine, it pays to keep track of the Empire’s dealings and potential enemies.”

“A philosophy that’s universally useful.” Maul’s tone was wry, but there was a spark of something in his eyes that might be genuine concern.

“Maul, I’ll be fine. You’ve seen my skill with a blaster.” He allowed himself a boyish grin and reached out to touch Maul’s cheek, tracing the tattoo there. “Besides, didn’t you once say I need never fear anything again? Do you truly have so little faith in your ability to protect me?” Perhaps a little unsubtle, but he doubted that Maul would resist such a direct appeal to his ego.

There was a pleased quirk to his lips and the skin under his fingers felt warmer, but Maul didn’t succumb to the flattery. “As much as I might wish to, I can hardly keep you in my sights at all times.” His hand closed around Obi-Wan’s, leaving his hair alone for the moment.

“A pity. Your golden gaze is hardly a trial to bear.” Disconcerting at first, yes. But Obi-Wan had come to enjoy being the intense focus of someone’s attention.

He was pulled closer, their faces almost touching now, and Maul softly asked, “May I kiss you now?” They had graduated to asking instead of merely taking, not that Obi-Wan didn’t enjoy the latter at times. He just didn’t want to encourage bad habits.

“Yes.”

Maul’s bursts of affection could be sudden and sporadic. Sometimes there was clear lead-up from mutual flirting and teasing, such as now. Other times the breaking point was less certain.

Truthfully, he wondered if it was an aftereffect of Sith training. Taught to revel only in anger and hate, perhaps Maul wouldn’t act on joy and what Obi-Wan was still hesitant to call love until the feelings become positively overwhelming. Until his very skin and muscles burned from the effort of holding it all back.

It showed in his kisses. Maul held nothing back. And for those brief moments at least, Obi-Wan had learned to do the same. Maul had become a reason to look forward to the next day when previously he only felt the weight of years stretching out before him, alone in a desolate desert. So Obi-Wan pressed back just as fiercely, just as passionately.

Maul’s hand found its way back into his hair. Idly, he wondered what Maul’s reaction would be if he let it grow out. He could never return to the simpler, happier times from before the war, but perhaps there were things he could reclaim.

Hmm, there was a thought...

With some effort, Obi-Wan pulled away. Maul allowed him to break the few inches apart needed for air, though his hands continued to hold Obi-Wan. 

“I’m not sure I’m ready to trust in the Force as you do,” he said, holding back a laugh that felt slightly hysterical. Oh, the irony. “But if you want me to have more training, perhaps you could show me how to swing that laser sword we picked up at that recent auction.”

He knew how backwards the idea was, to learn the ways of the lightsaber before the Force. Likely Maul did too. But it would be easier to feign inexperience with his blade than inexperience in the Force, and regular spars would ensure he didn’t grow soft from being a crime lord’s pampered consort. 

“Lightsaber,” Maul corrected, his hand still petting Obi-Wan’s hair. “And that is not a bad idea.”

If Maul was looking for a couple’s bonding activity, this might satisfy him. Especially if he provided Maul plenty of opportunities to straddle him and have him at his mercy. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes flitted back down to the neglected datapad. “So, do you need to get back to that right away, or…” he let the question trail off. Maul would be more than pleased to fill in the blank.

“It can wait,” Maul said, as he brought their lips back together.

**Author's Note:**

> Me, always: But what if mortal enemies were allowed to be tender with each other?
> 
> Also... the Obi-Wan & Dryden Vos amenity definitely goes both ways...
> 
> "Your boyfriend has quite the mouth on him."  
> "Vos... are you critiquing my taste in men?"  
> "No, sir. I would never dream of doing so. I was simply making a statement."
> 
> It amuses me to think about Maul waiting for just the perfect moment to make his “Join the Dark Side” proposal. He wanted just the _right_ segue.


End file.
